Thoughts Never Spoken
by SamLeTacoGoddess
Summary: Divergent HC. Tell me what you think! c:


These steps are not my steps. This gun is not my gun. Nothing belongs to me but my own thoughts.  
I have been locked in the back of my own mind, forced to watch myself raise the gun in my hand and kill innocents. No, not my hand, it's no longer mine. It can't be.  
My footsteps are in sync with those surrounding me. Men, women, and children donned in grey cower in fear before us. I step out in front of the rest, aiming my gun at a young girl. She looks at me, her grey eyes pleading. She can't be more then seven, with her round features and hair pulled back, but she has the knowing eyes of an Erudite. Her body quakes in fear.  
My body has no reaction to her mortal terror. But inside, I'm screaming. I'm searching for the controls in my mind, trying to find a way to tell that little that she's safe. That nothing bad is going to happen. But I have no luck. My fingers squeeze the trigger, a loud noise fills my ears but I don't even flinch. The girl doesn't stand a chance. The bullet flies through the air, everything slows down as it gets closer to her. Her eyes widen and she's frozen in place. She locks eyes with me, the bullet hits its mark, right between her eyes.  
The girl falls onto the neatly cut front lawn, blood spilling onto the blades of grass. Around me, I hear the screams and cries of many other Abnegation who will soon meet this child's fate.  
My body keeps moving against my wishes, when it spots two figures running. I have no time to mourn for what I have been forced to do. My legs carry me toward them, alerting the others to do the same.  
There's no way for me to stop it, no way for me to gain control. I have no choice but to witness it all, to see all the bloodshed around me, to feel like an absolute monster.  
One of them stops and the Dauntless around me aim their guns at her. I do the same. This one's older, her blonde hair hanging in her face. She's also donned in grey, but she has a gun in her grip. She's thin and fragile looking but there's a fire in her eyes that makes me think she was once a Dauntless. Like I am. That's when I notice, she looks a lot like Tris.  
The woman fires her gun at us. We all return fire at exactly the same time, like this was all a rehearsed act. Bullets fly through the air, many of them directed at her. They tear through her stomach area and she falls to her knees. I hear someone in the background, clearly in shock. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a small blonde girl, dressed like a Dauntless, her face filled with horror.  
Tris, I shout in my head, wishing it could break through and reach my lips. Run away!  
Fortunately, she does just that, heading down an ally. But I follow. I try resisting, screaming at myself, trying to bargain with whatever is going on. Nothing works, I keep running after her.  
She turns to face me. The shock on her face is far from hidden when she sees who I am.  
Please, not Tris, I beg. Please, not her, stop this, let her live.  
I try to stop the gun from being trained on her, but the more I resist, the faster it happens. She mimics me, aiming her gun with a blank expression. She looks dead inside. Fear washes through me, one of us is going to die. It's inevitable. If I could choose, I'd be the one to put a bullet through my own head so she doesn't have to.  
Her movements are shaky, but her expression is still blank. She looks the way I feel inside, lifeless, but still afraid. I want to tel her to fire already, before I do it. I want to tell her that I need to die, I have to.  
I can't convey any of these messages, not even with my eyes. I can only speak to myself, trapped in my own thoughts. Tris fires her weapon. I don't even see the bullet.  
Images flash through my mind and I cling to each of them. The aptitude test, the choosing ceremony, meeting Tris, meeting Christina. Christina. I hold onto her image, the memory of having her lips against mine. How she always lit up the room, her habit of speaking her mind. There's not a thing I don't love about her, but I can't tell her any of that now.  
The image slips away as the bullet finds me, shoving me into the abyss of death.  
I leave the world with one last final thought,  
Please let Christina be alive.

And now that I'm stuck in this black bliss for eternity, I realize something. It was awful. The things I witnessed, the things I heard, the things I did. It's enough to make someone go insane. Maybe it's not such a bad thing I'm gone, I don't have to wallow in my misery or face the deaths of my friends. Christina's probably gone, but at least Tris I know still has a shot at survival.  
I deserved death for helping to slaughter those people, so maybe I was the first step in making everything alright again.


End file.
